Apples and Trees
by cosettebird
Summary: Claudia goes in for a check-up. Rated for abuse. Oneshot.


Silent Hill and the characters residing therein belong to Konami, not me. Asshole!Leonard is an asshole.

* * *

"Well," said Doctor Kaufmann.

It wasn't really an "everything is fine and dandy" well; it was more of a disapproving well. Of course, he was doing his best to retain that objective doctor neutrality, but there were some things even he couldn't stomach and it showed.

"I won't call CPS," said Kaufmann. "But I am going to warn you to keep it a little less . . . conspicuous."

"And how do you propose I do it inconspicuously?" said the man, rising and folding skinny toothpick arms over an equally scrawny chest. He didn't take any pains to conceal his disapproval of the doctor – the corner of his line of a mouth twitching just a little. He had at least a good five inches on Kaufmann too, a trait which made it far easier to perform a perfect holier-than-thou sneer.

Goddamn, Kaufmann was sick of these holier-than-thou types.

The little girl on the examining table shifted a little, crossing and recrossing her skinny toothpick legs. The paper beneath her crinkled and made the long and awkward silence even more long and awkward.

"If I were you, I wouldn't do it in the first place. But it's not really my place to judge, so . . ."

"That's right. You don't have children, do you, Doctor Kaufmann?"

The fluorescent lights above their heads flickered out and back in. The little girl stuck a paper-white thumb in her line of a mouth.

"Claudia, don't _do _that. It's disgusting," said the man, shooting her the same look he'd given Kaufmann, only with about ten times the wattage. She popped the thumb back out and muttered something.

"What was that?"

"I'm sorry, sir." She crossed and recrossed her legs and the lights flickered a little.

"Look me in the eye, Claudia." She did, and his pair of watery grey eyes met her pair of watery grey eyes. "Good." He turned again to Kaufmann. "Now."

"No, I don't have kids," said Kaufmann, tugging at his collar. Jesus.

"Then you're right; you are in absolutely no position to advise me on my parenting. Do you have a wife, Doctor Kaufmann?"

"Used to."

"You divorced her."

"Uh, yeah. What does this have to do with Claudia?"

The man neatly averted the question. "Disgusting. Even you _reek_ of sin. I bet you slept around on the former Mrs. Kaufmann, did you not? Or did you merely frequent an establishment such as the _fine _Heaven's Night? Even the doctors in this place are sinners of the worst variety! And we wonder why our country has fallen into disfavor!" Pinky-violet blotches were rising in his paper-white cheeks and his wattle wobbled with every emphasized word. Had Kaufmann been standing a little closer to him, he probably would have noticed the spittle spraying out from his mouth.

"Whoa, sir – there's no need to sermonize. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't there this thing in the Bible about not judging other folks?"

"I. Am. Not. A. _Christian_!"

"Christ. Sorry. Anyway, somebody's going to notice. She's definitely going to be starting kindergarten in the fall, right? That's why you're here, right? Teachers are pretty good at noticing things like this and if she starts showing up at Midwich like she did here today then you're gonna find yourself in jail."

"I'm merely doing my duty as a father."

"She's going to die if you keep this up, Mr. Wolf."

The child on the table did not seem at all disturbed by this news – perhaps she somehow knew already. She merely sat with her hands folded in her lap, small face cold. It was almost a little unnerving to see a four-year-old acting like an solemn old woman with only a few incongruities – such as the thumb-sucking.

"Not only is Claudia apparently starving to death, she's also got two broken teeth, a broken rib, a broken_ arm _for Christ's sakes, and more bruises and burns and lacerations than I can count – "

"This is why I don't take her to doctors! All you ever do is – is criticize my judgment! I am her father, and therefore it is my sole responsibility to teach her right from wrong! And if death is what is necessary to teach her a lesson, than so be it! Dahlia said you'd give me only the forms and not this _lecture_."

"I'll give you the forms. Her immunizations and such are up to date, which is all the school really wants. But honestly, she's not doing so hot. If I were like most doctors, I'd have CPS on your tail quicker than you could say 'blasphemy'. So at least keep her warm and fed or you're going to be a murderer. It's the truth, Leonard. So, go. Midwich'll get the forms. Goodbye."

"Goodbye." He turned and nodded to his daughter. "Come, Claudia," he murmured and beckoned her to his side. She nodded and slipped off the table; he offered her his hand and she took it.

As they left, Claudia looked over her shoulder and stared at Kaufmann with those preternaturally cold grey eyes.


End file.
